Knocked Up By the Russian Boss by Bella King
Chapter 21
MAXIM
I’ve somehow been able to weasel my way into the university where Ivory attends classes. “Somehow” meaning that I paid off the admittance officer. Knowing that I could so easily buy my way into such a prestigious college would have most of these students vomiting from the sudden onset of imposter syndrome.
Having never been to a college of any kind, I expect it to be just like all of the old American movies about grasping on to your fleeting youth and relevance.
To a point, it does seem to be that way. I encounter flocks of Chads everywhere that I go, usually varying in annoyance depending on how rich their parents are, and it’s obvious who has more money.
Occasionally, I’ll run into somebody who actually got into the college on personal merit and scholarships, but they’re few and far between.
Declaring a major was one of the first things I had to do in order to start attending classes. I chose business because, for people already this wealthy, it’s nothing but blow-off classes for assholes who will inevitably inherit their father’s hedge fund or investment firm, therefore nullifying the need to attend college at all. Most of the people here, guys and girls alike, show up hungover every morning.
I’m definitely one of the only students over the age of 27, and the people who are around my age are working on their Ph.D. or third degree, not spying on women half their age.
Well, I’m sure there’s an element of that to it as well, but it’s not so obvious and single-minded as my intentions.
I wasn’t able to get any classes with Ivory since she’s apparently actually very smart and wants to change the world with her knowledge or some shit. It’s a very noble pursuit, but when I’ve claimed her as my bride, she won’t have to worry about saving the world at all. She can forget the world. She’ll have everything she ever wants and won’t have to pretend she gives a shit.
“Sir, are you lost? Is everything okay?” a small voice says from behind me as I walk aimlessly through campus.
When I turn around, I see a young woman, no older than 20, with straight blonde hair and a teeny tiny little nose piercing. She immediately strikes me as a rule-follower, and I’m wary of her though she seems well-meaning.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say.
She flutters her eyelashes at me expectantly.
“I attend school here,” I continue, realizing that I’m speaking far too formally and have given away my cover as a Russian immigrant.
“Wow, that’s like, really awesome that you’re switching careers,” she replies, her face lighting up.
If this conversation wasn’t so insulting, I’d be flattered by how genuinely excited she is for me. I’m not that old.
“I’m a Residence Assistant, by the way, so if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. Maybe you’d like my phone number?”
Is she flirting with me?
“No, thank you,” I reply. “I need to, uh, get to class.”
She blushes. “Okay, well, have a nice day.”
I nod, and she notices a group of girls behind me, racing over to them like a girl seeing her mother for the first time after summer camp. Thank god she left me alone instead of reporting me to campus police for looking so damn suspicious.
I realize I’m itching for some nicotine, so I make my way over to my SUV for a cigar. As I light it up, I can see Ivory wandering around the front of the campus, not exactly lost but certainly lacking a direction.
I can’t say I blame her; college is dizzying, and I haven’t even attended one class. There are so many acronyms and shorthand phrases to represent the most basic concepts that I’ve gotten lost looking for the largest building.
The idea that entering college was a bad idea or a waste of time makes me frustrated. Would it be easier to just kidnap Ivory and retain the ransom money from the father? There’s no way he would let her stay kidnapped for too long. It would look horrible for his campaign if he didn’t act quickly enough.
Kidnapping Ivory wouldn’t be so hard. I know where she lives and who she hangs out with, not to mention that she seems to trust me, and hiding her at one of my multiple homes would be extremely easy. I could just rotate her from one house to the next.
Or better, I could fly her out to Russia with me, keep the ransom money, and live completely free as a wanted criminal in the States so long as Interpol doesn’t catch me. Money talks, and my family in Russia is extremely connected. I’d likely have nothing to worry about there.
As I watch Ivory sit down near a tree, I watch her intently while she fishes around in her backpack for something. It must be important because when she doesn’t find it, her face seems panicked. If it didn’t appear extremely opportunistic, I would help her look for it, but I don’t need her to know that I go here and that I’m spying on her.
I’m already in over my head. Sergei has gotten impatient with me recently. He’s had to take on the majority of our actual operations with our actual drug trafficking process. We almost got smoked out by the feds a week ago, and I was here at the college jerking off in the bathroom after seeing Ivory in a low-cut top. He thinks I’m acting like a teenager, and he’s right.
What he doesn’t understand is that becoming involved with Ivory’s family, whether it be through kidnapping or a legitimate marriage, is that we wouldn’t have to deal with illegal substances at all. We could pursue more sophisticated means of business that don’t involve working with junkies and disgruntled mules.
He’s so short-sighted sometimes. It’s a real shame that he can’t see the bigger picture.
Before I’m able to get a better look, Ivory pulls something out of her bag, and her face lights up with relief. She starts to walk away, and all I can do is stare at her ass as the nicotine buzzes through my body.
